Be There When I Wake
by AlphaOmegaPsi
Summary: Nobody in the world is as pathetic as I am, right now; lying on a bathroom floor, empty of anything that may have held any nutritional value from my stomach, blubbering like a woman over a lost love whose name I didn’t even know. Akuroku, fluff, AU


AN: My submission for Akuroku Day! It's really fluffy, so I wouldn't suggest eating anything an hour beforehand, lest you blow some serious chunks all over your computer screen. And nobody wants that...

Mostly, this fic was born because I wanted to play around with the perspective-the whole 'I and you' thing. No, I don't know the name of it if it has a name. If anyone knows the name, please tell me.

Enjoy this, and be merry.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the story. Fear my prowess...

* * *

As I wake, I don't have time to think about anything before I can feel the bile beginning to rush up my throat, demanding to exit. I sit up, shocked, and clamp my hands over my mouth. I vaguely realize that I'm in my own apartment, but don't have time to think about it as I rush to the toilet, barely making it in time to retch out a glop of god-knows-what that I may or may not have consumed.

The cool porcelain feels good on my heated skin as I cling to it like a lifeline, sure that letting go would only warrant my tumbling away into some unknown abyss where nothing exists. The tiled bathroom floor beneath me is comforting, and I dig my legs into it fitfully, leaving dark bruises.

When the retching stops, when I'm sure there's no fluid or solid object left in my body, I allow myself to slide to the floor, forehead resting against the base of the toilet. My head is throbbing painfully. I wince at every rush. It feels like someone is repeatedly bringing a sledgehammer down onto my skull, except it's not shattering and I desperately wish it would.

I groan pitifully and curl in on myself, in a little ball on the bathroom floor. It hurts to even attempt to think, but a thought makes its way into my head: There was someone else here earlier. I fight to remember, ignoring the pain.

That's right; you came home with me last night. I drank to gain the courage to ask you back to my apartment, but overdid it and couldn't even remember what had happened. I know you came here with me, but after that…it's blank.

I hiccup as tears begin to flow down my cheeks, both from pain and the prospect that you're not here anymore. I probably scared you off. I know I can be an idiot drunk, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that you had to see that part of me; sorry I missed what may have been my only chance with someone as beautiful as you.

Nobody in the world is as pathetic as I am, right now; lying on a bathroom floor, empty of anything that may have held any nutritional value from my stomach, blubbering like a woman over a lost love whose name I didn't even know. Oh, but I do love you, that much is for certain. One look is all I needed to know. And now you're gone forever, and I'll never be able to tell you.

I clutch my head in my hands as another wave of pain threatens to cripple me indefinitely. Part of my brain that's still working is telling me I have to go back to bed; that I'll feel better under warm sheets and on a soft mattress. But the rest of my brain is content to simply lay here for the rest of eternity, until I waste away into nothing and can finally be rid of this pain.

Vaguely, I can hear the door open and close. Oh, good, someone's come to rob my apartment. I know I can't defend myself in this state, and can only hope they brought a gun or something sharp to kill me with so the pain can finally be silenced. I welcome death's sweet embrace with open arms.

"Whoa…you really did drink a lot, didn't you?" The syllables spoken by the robber in the doorway of the bathroom grate unpleasantly on my ears, only worsening the pain in my head. I try to tell him to kill me quickly, but all that comes out is a high keening sound. Talking is an ability that presently eludes me.

"Jesus, Roxas…" The robber kneels down next to me and places a warm hand on my forehead. I shy away from it, because it's too hot; I need to cool down, or I'll explode into flames.

The robber leaves, but comes back seconds later, pressing a glass to my lips.

"Drink this," he orders. I do, because it's cold and feels good on my aching throat. I gulp it down and my head feels better, though I'm nauseous once more. Something small and hard is inserted into my mouth, along with more water. I don't hesitate to swallow both down, letting out a sigh of contentment as my headache begins to fade, if only a little.

"There, that's better." The robber wipes my sweaty hair away from my face. "Can you talk now? Is the medicine working?" I open my eyes to slits, wincing at the light that aggravates my headache. Green eyes and red hair slowly come into focus, and I gasp. It's you!

"Y-you," I croak out, raising a hand to shield the harsh bathroom lights from my vision. "Thought you left…"

"I just went to get some hangover medicine," you say, holding up a small box. "I figured you would appreciate it after how hammered you got last night." I just nod vaguely, afraid to speak in case I decide to spew more than words. I'm amazed you came back; was it out of pity? Are you only here to give me the medicine, and then you'll leave again?

You prompt me to sit up, and I do, allowing your warm hands to guide me. I feel myself lowered onto a hard chest, and I snuggle into it. All I want to do is sleep…

"You really gave me a scare last night," you sigh. "I didn't know if I should call a hospital or not. You were pretty bad off." I'm touched that you were so worried about me. It makes me feel safe. I smile and close my eyes contentedly as I breathe in your scent; you smell like sweet pine and burning wood. It's a scent that suggests camping and a warm intimacy. I know I'll never get enough of it, and hope I'll get to smell it more after this.

"Smells good…" I mumble against your shirt. I hear you chuckle; or rather, I feel it rumble through your chest right into my very being. It makes me feel like we're one person; I like that idea.

"Sorry to be blunt, but you don't. You may want to take a bath." I groan at the prospect of moving and shake my head minutely. I want to stay here, wrapped in your arms. I would rather be dirty than move at this moment.

"I'm afraid you don't exactly have a choice." I feel you stand, and take me along for the ride. But I'm a rag doll at this point; if you were not supporting me, my legs would crumple and I would fall.

I feel you taking my clothes off. Until now, I hadn't realized just how dirty they are. But just having them off makes my skin feel a little better. I hear bathwater running, loud and explosive as a waterfall, and wince. My headache is fading, but is still present for the most part. I'm still sensitive to loud sounds.

When I'm lowered into the bath water, which is searing hot, I instantly begin to fight back.

"Hot," I protest, "Make it cold."

"No can do," you say, forcing me down into the water until I'm leaning against the porcelain. "You're gonna just have to grin and bear it." I open my eyes to stare at you fitfully, trying to convey my need for cold. Can't you tell my body is already too hot as it is?

Amusement dances in your eyes as you cup water in your hands to pour over my head in a downpour of hot, steaming torture. I whine at the horrible feeling, and wish with all my heart that this water was cold. I can't stand this horrible heat.

"Shh, shh," you soothe, running a wet hand over the parts of my body not in the water to get them wet. "Calm down, everything's okay." Your touch reassures me a little, but I still find the hot water unpleasant.

I watch you stand up and then crouch back down, my blue loofah and a bar of soap on your hand. I watch you lather it until the loofah is frothy and then set the bar of soap aside. The rough texture of the loofah feels strange on my skin right now, but not in an unpleasant way. I can feel the dirt and sweat lift from my skin and relax into the intimate touch you are administering. It feels good to be this close to you.

"Are you asleep?" I hear you whisper. I jolt when I realize my eyes slid shut and I was dozing for a minute there.

"I'm awake," I mumble, allowing myself to relax once more. I fight to keep my eyes open; I can't fall asleep now, or you might leave again. And you may not come back next time. I would stay awake for eternity if it meant keeping you beside me like this.

"You're gonna need to wash out your mouth and eat something before you sleep," you say amusedly. "Otherwise, you won't be feeling so hot when you wake up. Trust me on this." I do trust you, which is strange since I barely know you.

"What's your name?" I ask thoughtlessly, the need to know overpowering me. I mentally slapped myself, though, as that simple question made me seem like an inobservant fool. I hope you don't take it that way; I just want to know.

You chuckle again, and I find myself missing the feeling of being one as I laid my head against your chest.

"My name is Axel," you say. "I was wondering if you remembered. I told you my name when you started talking to me at the bar, but I guess you forgot that." I certainly couldn't remember actually going to the bar, and frowned at myself. Just how much had I drunk, exactly?

"It's okay; it'll come back to you later." I marvel at just how calm you can be in this sort of situation. I think, if possible, I just fell for you harder.

I see you reach for some shampoo and squirt a glob into your hand. You rub your hands together and then begin to massage my scalp. I sigh contentedly at the feeling and lean into your long fingers. It feels so good for someone to be so gentle with me; it feels great for you to be so gentle with me.

When you stop, I groan in protest and award you with a pout. You laugh at me, but don't say anything.

You clean your hands off in the bath water and then begin to scoop handfuls of water onto my head again. I don't mind so much this time; the water has become lukewarm, and my skin has lost much of its sensitivity. My headache is also mostly gone, and my nausea is at a minimum, but an empty feeling remains in my stomach.

"I'm hungry," I mumble sleepily as I feel the water begin to drain. I shiver at the cold air that attacks my body. You lift my out of the tub and drape a towel over me, using it to rub me raw in various places.

"We'll have to fix that," you say, smiling softly. You allow the towel to fall over my head like a curtain, so that you're blocked from my view. "Stay here, and I'll bring you something to eat." I sit patiently, towel still on my head. I know that I can move now without the fear of pain or nausea, but I'm enjoying the feeling of you taking care of me. And I don't see anything wrong with exploiting it a little longer, if it will keep you by my side. I love to feel your touch, the innocent little things you do while taking care of me, and will do anything to feel it more. It brings a smile to my face just thinking about it.

You return and lift the towel, amusement dancing in your eyes once more, and hand me a slice of wheat bread.

"Can't risk anything bigger; your stomach might protest in a big way," you explain. "I'll get you something bigger later, once you've had a little more rest." Those words click in my mind and I feel a light sort of giddiness take over my body. You're staying? With this knowledge, I devour my slice of bread hungrily; every last crumb. It feels good to have something in my stomach, but makes me want more. You may have a point, though, because my stomach begins to roil unpleasantly. I'll wait as long as it takes.

You help me use the mouthwash at the sink, which at this point is unnecessary. My headache had lessened to a dull, slight throbbing in the back of my head, and I can stand just find one my own. But I still lean against you as you fully support me and tip the cup back into my mouth at the same time. It feels really good to rely on you.

When you pick me up and hold me to your chest, remarking at how light I am, I feel as if I may die from happiness. I snuggle into your warm, soft skin and sigh in contentment.

My own bed seems inadequate when compared to lying against you, and I'm disappointed to be in it. You tell me you will be in the other room, and will wake me up in a few hours, but I cling to your arm. I know I will not sleep if you are out there and not in here.

"Please lay down with me," I beg, tears beginning to prickle at the corner of my eyes. I can't help the feeling that if you leave my sight you'll disappear for good. After having just a taste of you, I'm hooked, and I can't let you leave again. You look back and forth between me and the bedroom door a few times before lifting the comforter and climbing in beside me.

I snuggle up against you once more, burying my face in your collarbone so I can inhale your scent again. I feel your arms wrap around me tightly, protecting me from the outside world and shielding me with your warmth. I can feel the tug of sleep making my eyelids heavier, but I can't go to sleep yet. I never told you what I needed to tell you before and I thought I lost you; I won't make that mistake again.

"Axel, I love you," I say softly. Hopefully, it is loud enough for you to hear. I feel you chuckle again.

"You shouldn't say that about someone you barely know," you say just as softly, as if afraid to destroy the sanctity of the moment. I sense no malice or disgust or nervousness in your voice, simply quiet acceptance. I take one of your hands and place it over the left side of my chest, where my heart is beating wildly just by being in close contact with you.

"My heart knows you very well." I smile at you. "It yearns to be near you always and forever and nothing more." I almost expect you to shy away from my, to be disgusted or become scared and leave. But you smile and simply hold me close, and my heart lightens until I'm sure it will float away. It matters not; I have already given it to you.

I feel your lips cover mine in a kiss and melt into it, the soft press of skin on skin only relaxing me more against your body. I would sooner die than move from this spot, with you, with our bodies pressed against one another and the intimate caress of our mouths moving against one another. Heaven had nothing on this moment, right here. The perfect Euphoria, all for us; all ours for the taking. When you pull away, my lips feel bare without yours. It is almost sad how addicted to you I have become so quickly. Your lips glide over my cheek gently to rest on the soft lobe of my ear.

"If it is by that logic, then I would have to say the same." A wide smile crosses my face and I melt into you until we feel like one again. I finally allow my eyelids to fall shut and drift off to sleep in your arms, protected forever in your beautiful body. And I feel no fear, because I know you will be there when I wake.


End file.
